When I wake up, Hunter’s lying on his stomach next to me, his hands beneath his pillow. I observe him. At some point, he must have taken off the rest of his clothes without waking me up. My body is tired—I’m still feeling the sex in my bones.

I push the sheet off of him so I can see his naked butt. Light as a feather, I run my hand across his back, his butt, his thighs. And then I kiss every inch of his skin. His muscular back with the beautiful tattoos, his lower back, his butt. I gently bite it. He flinches a little in his sleep. I push the sheet aside more and see that he’s also taken off his prosthetic. For the first time, I see his stump. I stroke it, and he stiffens.

I bend forward, letting my lips graze it. It is in no way revolting. Surprising, yes, because the brain naturally expects a lower leg. I kiss it extensively, and he relaxes again. If I hadn’t already known this might be an issue, his reaction would have shown me he’s scared I might not find him sexy anymore.

I kiss him up the other leg and stroke his arm. My fingers find his and weave between them. I lean my cheek against his shoulder blade and close my eyes. I breathe him in, his scent—a bit of musk from our activities last night, and a lot of Hunter.

“Morning, baby,” he mumbles sleepily.

“Mmm,” I say, not moving an inch.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Mmm.”

“Are you sore?”

“Mmm.”

“Are you not talking to me?”

I grin and kiss his shoulder. His fingers start stroking mine, and I could keep lying on top of my sexy husband forever. My husband.

I can feel this is forever. In fifty years, he’ll still be sexy, and I’ll be all shrivelled up, but he’ll hold my hand, open the door for me, and keep looking at me with that naughty smile. He’ll still be holding my heart in his hands. Maybe the idea of this is making me a little drunk, because I say, “I want a tattoo.”

“Of what?” he asks.

“I want you to get one, too,” I say.

“I already have some.”

“I mean the same one as me.”

“Partner tattoos?”

“Exactly.”

“What do you want?

“His.”

He stiffens a little, like he didn’t hear me right. “His?”

“And you’ll get Hers.”

He rolls over so I end up on my back. “And where are you going to get yours?”

“You can choose.”

“Where am I going to get mine?”

I put my hand on his heart. “This is taken already.” I look at my name on his chest and smile. Then I push my hand down his stomach and stop on his groin. I smile at him, and he laughs.

He puts his hand in the same place on my body. “Yours is going there, too.”

I nod and bite my lip. After a moment, he clears his throat and confesses, “I was going to get an appointment soon anyway.”

“Oh?” I ask, surprised. “What are you getting?”

“I want to have Hazel with me. Always.”

I smile. “That’s perfect.”

He shows me a spot on his upper arm. “Here. Her name and the date I first met her.”

I stroke his face. “I love you.”

He kisses my lips. “Baby, the things I said to you yesterday…”

I put my finger on his lips. “That was so hot.”

He gives me a doubtful look. “Are you sure it wasn’t too much?”

“Absolutely sure.”

He gives me an insecure look. “Maybe wild sex isn’t such a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because of your history…”

“Hunter, would you ever do anything to me that I didn’t want?”

“No way!”

“Were you fully in control last night?”

“Always.”

“So if I had said stop, what would you have done?”

“Stopped.”

I stroke his cheek again. “I am a hundred percent safe with you.”

He smiles a little. “Always, baby.”

“I’m going to tell you something to really enlarge your ego now.”

He grins. “Okay.”

“So far, even the slightest incident has triggered the trauma of my past. Every time a man has been too dominant with me, I felt it. But not with you. Because I trust you. More than anybody else. Except maybe Carey. I trust him, too.”

“I’m so glad he’s been there for you.”

“Me too.”

“But from now on, I’m the only one who gets to see your pussy.” He kisses me as I laugh.

Then he sits up and fishes around on the floor for his prosthetic. “I’ll go get showered, baby, and then we’ll order in some breakfast, okay?”

I nod and stretch on top of the bed. He stares at my breasts before he shakes his head and, naked like God made him, walks into the bathroom. I hear the water turn on and bite my lip.

Without another moment of hesitation, I jump out of bed and hurry to him. I open the shower door.

“That took a while,” he says, his back to me.

I step inside and hug him. Gently, I bite his shoulder. In no time, he’s turned me so I’m facing the wall. He opens my legs and pulls my butt toward him so I have to arch my back.

He grabs his penis, and I feel the tip at my entrance. He reaches around me and slowly rubs my clit until I have to bite my lip to keep from screaming so loud the entire hotel collapses. He comes in. Deep. Slow. I can feel every inch of him slide into me. I gasp, throwing my head back.

“Oh yes, Hunter.”

His hands knead my breasts. His lips graze my neck. His breath is hot on my skin. My hands press against the wet tiles of the shower. I’m so turned on I can hardly bear it. I bite the inside of my cheek to distract myself. A quiet moan rolls across my lips.

“You feel so good,” he growls quietly. His voice is deep and hoarse, and full of passion and pent-up emotion.

His cock is buried deep inside me, and with every thrust, it goes in deeper. He hits places inside me nobody has ever hit before.

Our bodies slapping together, the moans that escape our lips, the water gently hitting us, are the only sounds inside our little world. One of his hands leaves my breast and slides between my legs. His fingers skilfully play around my clit. I moan his name and feel him getting harder. His teeth sink into my shoulder, and an animalistic sound leaves the depths of his chest.

“Fuck, Mac!”

His fingers move in deeper, and I can feel them at the spot where we’re connected. Slowly, they push inside me. I draw in air hard when his cock and his fingers start thrusting into me simultaneously. His other hand moves up, stopping at my throat, forcing me to tilt my head backward again, arching my back even more.

I can see the lust in his eyes, his wish to possess me, to mark my body and ruin it for every other man.

Suddenly, he pulls out of me. My body screams for him, and my hips squeeze against him, longing for a connection.

I hear him laugh quietly before he wraps my long, brown hair around his hand. He swerves my head around. Before I can react, his lips are on mine, capturing me with a hot kiss. His other hand is on my throat, his tongue thrusting deep inside me.

I moan quietly, and he greedily absorbs every sound. When he pulls away, a sweet smile plays around his lips. He kisses me gently again before his look turns naughty. Without his eyes leaving me for one minute, he gestures for me to get on my knees.

I look up at him. He’s so different from all the other men I’ve had before him. And yet, I know it’s him I was made for. I lick my lips, while getting down, and then I open my mouth wide, and, with an primordial sound, he thrusts his cock deep into my mouth. I can feel his glans in my throat, a sense of tightness forming.

Small tears gather in the corners of my eyes as I struggle not to gag. He gives me a moment, gently wiping my cheeks with his thumb.

My gaze finds his, and I get hot seeing the love in his eyes. Then his soft chocolate gaze grows hard. At that moment, his hands close around my head, and he thrusts deep into my mouth. His moans are loud and come from the depths of his chest.

“Fuck, this is so good,” he growls.

I look up at him and see him throwing his head back, his eyes closed, enjoying every second of this.

Just like me.

He’s the part of the jigsaw puzzle that makes me whole. I feel safe, protected, loved, and incredibly free. Free of my past, free of everything that has been holding me back. I have never been myself as much as I am in this moment. After years of searching, I have finally found him. The one person I love.

With one last thrust, he cums, filling my mouth with his sperm.

“Swallow, baby,” he mumbles, his hands caressing my face. My throat works, and once I’ve followed his command, he plants a gentle kiss on my forehead and helps me up. Then he takes me into his arms.

I’m home. Finally, I’m home.

He picks me up, steps out of the shower with me, and takes me back into the bedroom. He sets me down on the bed, wet as I am, and positions himself between my legs. His tongue, his lips, and his fingers unite to shoot me to the moon. Again and again.

* * *

We have breakfast in bed, and I don’t have to do a thing. I couldn’t if I tried, either. He’s taken care of room service, put the food on the mattress, and added milk and sugar to my coffee. He even buttered my toast and is feeding me fruit salad.

“Hmm, I could get used to this,” I say, smiling.

“Go ahead, baby,” he says with a laugh before kissing me.

“Are you going to carry me home?” I tease him. “You might have to.” I snuggle up against his shoulder. “I’m so happy.”

“Me too, Mrs. Tilman.”

I laugh quietly. “Do you like that, Mr. Tilman?”

“I love it.” He puts his arm around me.

“I can’t wait till we get home. I hope you like it there.”

“You’re there. Hazel is there. Carey is there.”

“But the walls are pink.”

He smiles and kisses me on the forehead. “Just in Hazel’s room, I assume.”

“And it’s not that big.”

He shrugs. “As long as your bed is big enough.”

“Our bed.”

“Yes, our bed.”

I stroke his cheek. “You’re so sexy.”

“I know. But have you seen my wife?”

I have to laugh and nudge him in the side. “Is she sexy, too?”

“Yup, especially those big, huge tits of hers…” He gestures like he has breasts, making me laugh again.

“You’re such a big kid.”

Completely content, we both drift away into our own worlds.

“What do you do with Hazel when you’re at work?” he asks after a while.

“We have a nanny who watches her when Carey and I have to work at the same time. Carey’s working shifts. Twenty-four hours on, forty-eight off. When he’s off, he takes care of her, otherwise the nanny does.”

“Would it be okay if I watched her for the time being?” he asks, sounding a little insecure.

“Of course! You’re her dad. You don’t have to ask.”

He reaches for my hand and pulls it to his mouth. His lips gently touch my fingers. “Yes, I do. I don’t want to get anything wrong. I don’t want to mess up your life.”

“But you need to get involved. You’re part of our lives. So far, I’ve made decisions alone, but now you’re here. You have as much of a right to make decisions about Hazel as I do.” I look at him, wanting him to take in my words and register their meaning.

He thinks about it before he says, “Let’s take it slow, okay? I mean, I’ve only been a father for a few weeks. You need to keep hold of the wheel for another while before we can start steering the ship together, okay?”

I nod. “Okay, if you want.”

“I don’t want to get this wrong.”

“You won’t, Hunter. Really. I was so scared, too. Scared I might drop her. Scared I might be too rough. Scared she’d be traumatized if I put her in her own bed at night instead of letting her sleep in my bed. Or vice versa.”

“Where does she sleep?”

“First in her bed, and if she wakes up crying, I bring her to mine.”

He smiles. “I like the idea of snuggling up with her at night.”

“She’ll start staying in her own bed one day. I don’t know how other parents handle it, but I can’t let her cry.”

He strokes my cheek. “And that’s good for her.”

* * *

Later, we pick up Carey and Hazel and fly home together. Hazel is absolutely crazy about Hunter. It’s so cute seeing her give him those awestruck looks and hearing her say the word Daddy in different ways, like she’s still testing the sound of it. But her eyes always say she’s proud to have a dad now.

And then comes the moment. The moment Hunter sets foot in our apartment for the first time. What’s he going to say? Does he feel at home here? Or not? He doesn’t even have time to look around because Hazel immediately calls, “Daddy, tum!”

She marches into her room, and her dad, who is just as taken with her as she is with him, follows her. What a divine sight they are. The tiny girl and the giant.

I look at Carey, and he smiles happily. He puts his arm around my shoulder. “Finally.”

“Finally.” I lean against him. “I’ll make us some food. You show Hunter how to get the little toad ready for bed.”

“Okay. I bet you a hundred dollars Hunt’s going to read five books to her because he can’t say no.”

“I say seven.”

He laughs and makes his way into Hazel’s room. I can hear laughter and noise, so it must be going pretty well.

I make lasagna because I know Hunter likes it. Hazel’s eating baby food again in the evenings. She could eat something else, but she’s decided she wants mush again. And who am I to keep my daughter from eating boring pap?

When the food is in the oven, I go to the bathroom and lean against the doorframe. Carey and Hunter are kneeling next to the bathtub while Hazel swims. Not really swims. Really, she’s just making all the water slosh around and onto the floor.

When she sees me, she squeals, “Mommy, swim!”

“I can see you, baby. Good job. Hunter and Carey are going to get wet, too.”

She smiles and throws herself across the water.

“Are you checking on us, Mama Bear?” Carey asks, splashing water in my direction.

Hazel’s eyes light up. “Carey,” I hiss, but he just laughs. Boys. They’re so childish.

The little one keeps splashing around till Hunter threatens to call the Coast Guard to come save her. Then he washes her hair and makes horns out of the suds. Carey gets the mirror so she can see herself. She laughs and smacks her head until she starts crying because she’s got shampoo in her eyes. Carey gives her a cloth to hold in front of her eyes as they rinse out the shampoo. Hunter looks a little pained.

What a wuss.

I drag Hunter’s bags into my room and start unpacking. Good thing I’ve already made room in the wardrobe.

A nice smell wafts through the apartment, and I hurry back to the kitchen. Bubbles are popping inside the oven. Delicious! I set the table, and when I put the lasagna on the table, they come in like I’ve hit a gong.

Hunter puts Hazel in her chair, and I hand him her plate. “She can eat by herself. Just put the plate in front of her.”

“Okay.” He hands her a spoon and checks whether she’s sitting properly and makes sure the chair isn’t wobbling. There’s just one word for that overprotective character: Dad.

It’s so good to have my two boys with me again. My family. It feels so…normal. After we eat, Hunter takes Hazel to bed and reads ten entire books to her. Carey and I lie on the couch, neither of us willing to save him.

When he finally joins us, he sits down so I’m lying in his arms. “How many books do you usually read to her?”

“One,” I say. Carey says: “Three.”

I pretend to gasp and nudge him with my foot. “I didn’t know that! She’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”

“But I’m her uncle.” He grins. “I get to spoil her.”

Hunter laughs. “Okay, I’ll break it to her tomorrow night that we can’t read the whole shelf every night.”

“Mac just told me you’re going to play babysitter,” Carey says. “I’m working tomorrow, but I’m off Monday and Tuesday. Just in case you want some help to get you started.”

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it. I don’t want to break anything.”

“Not possible,” Carey says. “In the beginning, I thought she was made of spun sugar too, but she’s pretty tough, actually. And now she can say if she doesn’t like something. Plus, you’re not going to be able to say no to her anyway. You’ll get on great.” He grins at his brother.

Hunter rubs his neck. “Yeah...”

“Wuss,” I say, interlacing my fingers with his.

“Guilty.”

Carey hits the remote and throws Hunter a video game controller. “Want to play?”

Hunter nods, and I slide down a little so my head is on his lap. It’s cool watching them do regular things young men do. And I like it because they’re both with me.

I wake up when Hunter puts me in my bed. He undresses both of us before he snuggles up to me from behind. “Night, baby.”

A few hours later, we hear Hazel crying on the baby monitor, and I put on panties and a shirt to go get Hazel. She stretches out her arms, her face wet with tears, and is so relieved when I squeeze her tight. My darling girl.

I go back to the bedroom and tuck her between us.

Tears in her voice, she whispers, “Hi, Daddy.”

Hunter kisses her forehead. She snuggles up close to him before she closes her tired eyes and falls asleep again. Hunter grabs my hand and pulls it to his lips.

“Thank you, baby,” he says.

I nod, thinking of my tattoo. Free at last. And finally, finally, it’s true.